Hidden File Command
by Canadian Crow
Summary: For all the trouble it caused, when did the Intersect ever do anything for him? Part One of the Hidden File Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. This fiction is written for entertainment only.

No profit was made. Just FYI.

**This story is dedicated to the memory of Cpl. Mike Starker, and Canadian Forces Medic recently killed in action in Southern Afghanistan.**

**It isn't much, Mike, but this one's for you.**

A/N: Once again, proof that I can't leave well enough alone. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed coming up with it.

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The Intersect.

The first time Chuck had heard the word he'd repeated it with confusion and not a little disbelief. After a while, it became something of a secret buzzword, a universal excuse/reason/justification for anything that happened.

Didn't make it to dinner? Intersect.

Late for work, assuming he even showed up at all? Intersect.

Having to lie to his nearest & dearest, day in and day out for over a year? _Intersect._

And just as any excuse becomes a justification, given enough time, that justification became belief, and that belief began to run his life.

When Captain Awesome...er...Devon actually asked him to be the Best Man at his and Ellie's wedding, he refused because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the freaking Intersect would do something, _just something, _that would cause him to miss the wedding. And he just couldn't bear to see that heartbroken look on Ellie's face again when he'd have to lie to cover not himself, but the god forsaken thrice-damned Intersect.

Some days, Intersect was practically a four-letter word for him. Even Sarah and Casey avoided saying it out loud, thanks to the notable twitch Chuck had developed at its mention. They'd opted for phrases like 'The Intelligence' or 'Chuck's Data' in an attempt to make him feel better.

Well...Sarah did. Casey actually found the twitch funny, and would've kept saying... it... until Chuck blew a gasket, if Sarah hadn't calmly explained that giving Chuck an aneurysm really wouldn't look good to their superiors. The fact that her hand had been resting on her gun during the entire explanation helped, too.

Sometimes Chuck really appreciated having her around.

But none of that is the point here.

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Hidden File Command

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Like any other Monday morning, Chuck had emerged from bed with all the vigor and energy of a narcoleptic sloth. Silently mourning the death of the weekend, and bound for another day at the Buy More, he pulled himself from the tangled sheets and managed to get himself upright.

Forcibly placing one foot in front of the other, he made his way to the bathroom, only to be deterred by a suspiciously locked door.

Shaking his head for a moment, he managed to clear his thoughts enough to remember that Sarah had stayed over the previous night. Maintaining their cover story, as always. Just another lie, with another justification tagged on to it.

Heaving a weary sigh, Chuck headed off to get some breakfast, and wait for Sarah to finish. His CIA handler may have been able to strip and assemble an assault rifle in thirty seconds, but she seemed incapable of taking less than an hour to get ready in the morning.

As he travelled to the kitchen he passed Devon in the hallway, clad only in a set of scrub pants, outside the bathroom he shared with Ellie. The two shared a silent look of long-suffering commiseration, and Devon turned to follow his soon to be brother-in-law.

The two of them poured themselves some coffee, and settled in for the wait.

Following Chuck's poorly explained refusal to be Devon's best man, things had been a little awkward between the two of them for a time. But soon enough their respective personalities shone through and the discomfort vanished, although the topic of the upcoming wedding was still avoided, more often than not.

"So Awesome," Chuck opened. "What's on the agenda today? First ever human-horse brain transplant? You know I've been waiting on that one."

Devon laughed quietly. "Sorry, buddy. That one isn't on the board this week. It's that whole human and animal rights thing."

"Well on behalf of Mr. Ed fans everywhere, I feel we've been cheated." Chuck replied, heaping three spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. "I think the hospital needs to have more mad scientists on staff."

"I don't think it's in the budget." Devon countered, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "No, today is just some routine stuff. Oncology is sending up a woman with a tumor near her temporal lobe, and they need us to go in and find out whether it's malignant or not."

"Malignant?"

"Malignant tumors are the ones that kill people." Devon explained. "If you're gonna have a tumor, you want a benign one. Easy to remove, and they don't come back."

"Oh. Well, how can you tell one from the other?"

"That part's easy. We go in and get a little piece of the tumor with a procedure called an..."

He didn't even notice when Chuck's face went blank. With blinding speed, a thousand images flew through his consciousness, coming together to form a pattern, an image of a...

"...Endo-cranial biopsy!" Chuck practically yelled.

Devon looked a little stunned for a moment, before grinning and slapping Chuck heartily on the shoulder. "Been reading your sister old textbooks, Chuck? Awesome pursuit of higher knowledge, buddy! High five!"

Chuck smiled half-heartedly as he raised his hand, wincing only slightly when Captain Awesome practically high-fived his shoulder from its socket. As much as he enjoyed the moment of comradre he and Devon were sharing, the flash he'd had left him feeling a little disturbed.

"Err... I gotta go." Chuck said suddenly. "Gonna be late, and, y'know, stuff."

Not waiting for Devon's response, he bolted out of the room.

He had seen images of the neurological procedure, sure, and he had seen its name. That had been just like all his flashes. Nothing to write home about, so to speak.

But then something new had happened. A feeling of knowledge and experience had washed over him. He hadn't just _seen_ an Endo-cranial biopsy...

...he was pretty sure he could _perform_ one, too.

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"Sarah!" He hissed, knocking as loudly on the bathroom door as he dared. "Sarah, open up!"

He heard the shower shut off, the sound of the curtain sliding open. Unbidden, the image of Sarah's naked body in the shower came roaring to the forefront of his mind.

Giving himself a vicious mental slap, he tried again. "Sarah, open the door!"

"What?" He heard her respond. "I'll be out in a few minutes, Chuck. Go get some coffee."

A morning person, Sarah Walker was not.

"Sarah!" Chuck responded urgently. "I flashed! I had a fla..."

Without warning the door flung open, and Sarah, clad only in a towel, grabbed him by the wrist and hauled his to his room. On the way, Chuck allowed his mind to indulge in a few fantasies about what a towel-clad Sarah might be dragging him to his bedroom _for._

The fantasies were ruined, though, the second they had the door closed. "What did you flash on? What did you see?"

A little put out at being dragged around and questioned so sharply, Chuck said the first thing that came to mind. "A lot more than I was expecting, at the moment. Would you like to borrow a shirt?"

Sarah looked puzzled for half a second, and then looked down. In their rush to reach his room, the towel had slipped almost to the point of indecency. She blushed slightly, pulling the towel up, and looked back at Chuck sternly. Her expression melted, however, when she saw that he'd turned away politely, and was holding her clothes out to her.

She thanked him quietly, and began to get dressed. As she did, he explained what'd happened over breakfast. He was just finishing when she gave him the all clear to turn around.

"We should report this immediately." She told him, shouldering her overnight bag. "Casey should be up already. We'll call in from there."

She waited for Chuck to get properly dressed and ready, and then they headed out. From the corner of his eye, Chuck just noticed Captain Awesome giving him a double thumbs up from the kitchen, having seen Sarah (in the fantasy-fuelling mini-towel) drag Chuck forcibly into his bedroom.

Feeling no desire at all to correct Devon on this point, Chuck responded with a grin and his own small thumbs up, before following Sarah out the door.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. This fiction is written for entertainment only.

No profit was made. All I gain is satisfaction.

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Arriving at the Buy More a relatively good fifteen minutes late, Chuck made his way to the Nerd Herd desk as subtly as possible. Between the constant late-night briefings and the unexpected missions, it was a wonder he showed up at all some days.

The report to Director Graham and General Beckman that morning had been surprisingly uneventful. Even after hearing that Chuck's latest flash may, in fact, have endowed him with the knowledge to perform neurosurgery, they seemed unimpressed. Sarah and Casey were ordered to 'keep an eye on the situation', and that was all.

Even his two handlers seemed unimpressed. Or, in Casey's words, "You had a vivid flash on a random topic, and it took you by surprise. That don't magically make you a brain surgeon, Chuckles."

In hindsight, Chuck figured that made a lot more sense than anything else, and quickly put the whole thing out of his mind. And seeing Morgan attempting to sell a 70" Plasma screen to what looked like a 200 year old woman, he figured he had enough to deal with as it was.

Shaking his head at his friend's optimism, despite his total lack of sales skill, Chuck sat down and began going over the previous night's service calls. He'd been at it for a while when Casey sidled up to the desk.

"Bartowski." He grumbled, smirking. "Any more urges to perform major surgery?"

"I dunno, Casey." Chuck fired back. "How're you feeling?"

Casey snorted. "Cute. Big Mike sent me over. You're on an early lunch today. So scram."

Chuck didn't need to be told twice. He bolted up from his seat and headed for the doors. Once he reached the freedom of the outside world, he headed to the Weinerlicious for what was usually the very best part of his day.

Lunch with Sarah.

Bursting into the oddly themed fast-food joint, he found yet another group of teenage boys gaping at the sight of Sarah (in her almost indecent Weinerlicious uniform) going about her 'job'. It never ceased to amaze him that she put up with this place every day. The Buy More was bad, but this place was downright demeaning.

Shrugging the thoughts off, he watched the last of the teens receive his order and scramble out the door. Turning back to the counter, he was rewarded with a bright smile from the object of his not-so-secret affections.

"Chuck!" She beamed. "You're early."

"Yeah. Big Mike cut me loose early for lunch." He shrugged, mock-turning toward the door. "But if it's a bad time, I could let you get back to work..."

"No!" he cried, before composing herself. "I mean, I think the place can get by without me for a while."

Chuck laughed at her obvious hatred of her cover job, wandering outside to wait for her. A moment later, she emerged with her bagged (and notably healthier) lunch. As soon as the sunlight hit her face, a great weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.

"Oh, God." She exclaimed as she dropped into the seat across from him. "This place is driving me crazy."

He smiled. "You could just quit, maybe find something else."

She sighed. "Nope. I'd need CIA approval, and this hellhole has a perfect line-to-sight to the Buy More. I'm stuck."

"Ah. Another victim of the dreaded tag team of paperwork and linear physics." He quipped, sipping his soda.

"Mhm." She agreed through her mouthful of salad. Swallowing, she continued. "So what time should I pick you up tonight?"

"Huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "One year anniversary, Chuck."

"Oh." Chuck gaped. "OH! Right."

"Men." She chuckled. "If I didn't take care of things..."

"Okay, okay." He acquiesced. "But I think I should pick you up. It is a special occasion, after all."

Sarah eyed him. "Ellie on you to be more of a gentleman?"

"Like a monkey on my back." He confirmed, grinning. "Besides, your driving scares me."

Sarah looked affronted. "My driving _scares_ you?"

He shrugged. "It just seems a tad aggressive sometimes. And I grew up in LA."

"Oh, it's not that bad."

"You drift turned through a packed intersection last week." Chuck reminded her.

"We were in a hurry."

"We were going to get a Slurpee." He countered. "And you drove through more red lights than greens."

She gave an indifferent shrug. "I was thirsty."

"Fair enough." He laughed, yielding the point. "CIA teach you to drive like that?"

"Yep." She confirmed. "Evasive and Tactical Driving was a required course."

Picking at her salad, she failed to notice Chuck's face go slack as he flashed. Images ripped through his mind. Cars twisting through turns, physics equations, the procedures for ditching a following vehicle... and a blueberry pie.

And then, the same feeling he'd gotten at breakfast. A wave of knowledge and familiarity washed over him, and suddenly he was remembering driving with Sarah in a whole new light.

He shook his head, and was about to tell Sarah... when he decided against it. This wasn't vital intel, and he wanted to take his newfound knowledge for a ride, so to speak.

The rest of their lunch passed quickly as they enjoyed their conversation, and just before he returned to work, he told Sarah he'd pick her up at seven, sharp.

The smile she gave him had him walking on air the rest of the day.

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"Ellie!" Chuck called out from his bedroom. "Where's my blue shirt?"

"In your closet." His sister called back. "Left hand side."

"No! My other blue shirt!" He clarified. "The one with the thing!"

"That one's in the laundry!"

"Dammit!" He cried. "What about my..."

"Dresser drawer, second from the top, right side." Ellie cut him off, sidling into the room.

A pause. "Thanks, Ellie."

She giggled softly. "Bit keyed up tonight, are we?"

"Yeah, well..." Chuck muttered, wrestling with his tie. "One year anniversary. Kind of a big deal."

Sighing, she stepped forward and swatted his hands away. Fixing his tie, she looked up at him. "You'll do fine. It's Sarah, and she's crazy about you."

Chuck almost winced. "I know."

"Good." She finished off the tie. "Now what time is she getting here?"

"Actually, _I'm_ picking _her_ up." He replied smugly. "Seven, sharp."

"Seven?" She gaped at him. "Chuck, it's six forty-five now. You're late! Go! Go!"

Bustling him out of the room, she shoved a bouquet of roses into his hands. Then he was out the door, and running for the car.

Leaping into the Herder, he fired the engine and threw it into gear, diving onto the street. Glancing at his watch, he spared a half second to weigh his options. "Oh, why the hell not?"

Stomping on the gas, the highly modified CIA-installed engine roared, throwing the small vehicle forward. With a level of skill not his own, Chuck wove in and out of traffic.

Ahead of him he saw the light at his turn switch to yellow, then red. Without a second's hesitation, he reached down and gave the handbrake a sharp tug, cutting the wheel sharply to the right. Countersteering quickly, he felt the little car slide effortlessly through the turn.

As he recovered on the other side, he was surprised to hear himself whooping with excitement. Coming up on Sarah's hotel, he turned slightly right, and cranked the wheel hard to the left. The rear end swung out, he entered into a 180-degree drift, slid easily through the oncoming lanes, and came to a perfect stop at the curb in front of the lobby doors.

Standing there, gaping like a fish, was Sarah. Lowering the passenger window, he grinned up at her. "Am I on time?"

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. This fiction is written for entertainment only.

No profit was made. None that I'll ever see, anyway.

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Once Sarah got over her initial shock at Chuck's driving, he managed to explain what had happened. She was amazed; admitting she hadn't believed him when he said the Intersect was acting strangely.

"It actually is imparting skills on you?" She asked, for perhaps the fifth time. "Not just information?"

"Well, it's kinda both." He clarified, glancing over from the driver's seat. "Like today, at lunch, when I flashed on your mentioning the driving course, it's like the entire course guide was dumped into my head."

She blinked in amazement. "We need to report this right away."

"Nuh-uh." He shook his head. "It's our anniversary. A video conference with Washington is not my idea of a good time."

She smiled indulgingly. "It's a cover date, Chuck. We're allowed to cancel it."

"Hey, the way I see it, cover date or not, it's still the first anniversary of the day we met." He turned to smile at her. "That's definitely worth celebrating."

"Oh." She blushed lightly, and cleared her throat. "Well, I suppose we don't need to report this _right_ away."

He grinned. "That's the spirit."

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The restaurant was classy without being stuffy, and as the waiter led them to their table Chuck silently thanked Devon for recommending it.

Ever the gentleman, Chuck pulled Sarah's chair out for her before he took his own seat.

Their conversation was light, casual, and pointedly _not_ work related. They even managed to make it through appetizers, the main course, and halfway through dessert before Sarah's curiosity finally got the better of her.

"Chuck." She ventured slowly. "There's something I'd like to try."

He looked up, his eyes curious. "Okay. Shoot."

She smiled. "Advanced Tactical Hand-To-Hand Combat Arts."

The effect was instantaneous. Chuck's face went blank as the flash came over him, dumping the associated information into his head. In his mind's eye, he could almost see a book appear, with the title Sarah had just spoken. Then a dizzying barrage of images that almost overwhelmed him

After a long moment, his face lit up, and he shot her a million-megawatt grin. "So _that's_ how you do all that ninja stuff."

She beamed back at him. "So it worked?"

"If you asking 'did all kinds of kick-ass martial arts knowledge just get zapped into your brain?' than the answer is a resounding yes." He shook his head in wonder. "This is amazing. It's like the Matrix. In fact, I think I need to say it."

"Say what?" She asked curiously.

He gave her an enigmatic smile. "I know kung-fu."

"Is that right?" She laughed brightly.

"Um... I think your line was 'Show me'."

"In a crowded restaurant? Bad idea." She eyed him speculatively, leaning forward to whisper to him. "Besides, Intersect or not, I could kick your butt any day of the week, Neo."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Point taken."

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Chuck opened the door for her, and offered his arm. She took it, smiling. "What a gentleman."

He offered her a grin, and the two of them began walking back to the car.

Suddenly, a dishevelled man emerged from around a corner. Pulling a snub-nose revolver, he levelled it on them, a wild look in his eyes. "Gimme your goddamn wallets!"

"Holy crap!" Chuck exclaimed, his body tensing. Unconsciously, his stance dropped slightly to match Sarah's, as both of them reacted to the threat.

"Shut up!" he barked, gun waving back and forth between the two of them. "Cash, now! And the chick's jewellery. Hurry up!"

"Okay." Sarah's voice was completely calm, her open hands held out. "Just settle down."

"Don't you tell me to settle down, bitch!" The mugger's nostrils flared. "Get on the fucking ground! Both of you!"

"Alright." Sarah replied, unfazed as she lowered herself to the ground, eyes never leaving the gun.

As soon as she was prone on the ground, the mugger turned the gun on Chuck. Stepping forward, he pointed the weapon right between Chuck's eyes and sneered. "You too, pretty boy. On the ground or I waste the bitch."

Chuck's eyes blazed at the thought of Sarah getting hurt, and he moved on reflex.

Swatting the gun aside with his left hand, he launched right his right fist across the mugger's jaw, followed by an elbow to the man's temple. Ignoring the instant pain that lanced up his arm, he dropped into a crouch and fired his leg into the side of his assailant's knee.

The mugger crumpled like a house of cards, his head striking the pavement and leaving his unconscious.

In the movies, fight scenes are built for the visual effect. They're choreographed and planned to stretch them out, make them last. The fighters perform all manner of gravity defying manouvers before it's over. Chuck had just preformed a real-world hand-to-hand attack...quick, brutal, and ultimately effective. His opponent had gone from threat, to dead weight, in less than seven seconds.

And if he'd messed up, it could have meant his own life, and Sarah's, just as quickly.

Turning, he saw Sarah once more gaping at him in wonder. He moved over, and reached out a hand to help her up. Pulling her to her feet, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, eyes dancing between him, and their unconscious attacker. "You know, I could've..."

"I know." He acknowledged. "But I couldn't give him the chance to hurt you. Forgive me?"

"Yeah. I mean, of course." She answered easily, beaming up at him. "Chuck, that was really good. Hell...that was amazing."

He smiled embarrassedly. "Hey... you taught me everything I know."

She blinked, and let out a soft chuckle. "I guess I did."

The two of them fell silent as they realized how close they were standing. Glancing down, Chuck saw that their hands were still joined. Looking up to meet her eyes, he suddenly found himself short of breath.

Leaning forward, he softly captured Sarah's lips. He felt a soft gasp of surprise escape her, but after a second her arms snaked up around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

It was the complete opposite of their kiss on the docks, the night Bryce had returned. That kiss had been about fear and danger and passion, the perfect last kiss.

This kiss was full of trust and romance and affection. The perfect first kiss.

The analogy, Chuck admitted, certainly had it's appeal.

When they parted, ever so slightly out of breath, neither of them knew exactly what to say. Smiling shyly to one another, they walked back to the car hand-in-hand.

Just before they got in, though, Sarah cleared her throat. "Chuck... I realize you don't want to hear this right now..."

Chuck's heart plummeted into his shoes instantly.

"...but we really should report in tonight. About the Intersect." She finished, climbing into the car.

The breath he'd been holding came out in a rush. "Oh, thank God."

She looked at him quizzically as he collapsed into the driver's seat.

"I kinda thought you were gonna...you know...say we'd just made a mistake, or something..." He trailed off, smiling awkwardly.

"Chuck, you're an asset and I'm an agent." She smiled ruefully, reaching over and placing her hand over his. "We're definitely making a mistake."

His expression began to fall again, when she continued. "But some mistakes are worth making, Chuck. You're...worth it."

His glowing smile was infectious, and Sarah quickly felt a similar smile spreading across her own features. Leaning over, she placed another quick kiss on his lips. "Now, let go get that report over with."

The Nerd Herder's engine had never been pushed so hard in it's life.

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Squealing to a stop outside his apartment building, the sound of Sarah's alarmed shriek came echoing from the Herder's interior.

As she and Chuck climbed out of the car, he turned to her somewhat smugly. "See? Not so fun as the passenger is it?"

She tried to glare at him, but quickly dissolved into giggles. "I can't believe you outran that police car in _reverse!_"

"What can I say?" He responded, patting the Herder's hood affectionately. "She's got moves."

Rolling her eyes, she smirked at him. "Of course. Men and their cars."

The two of them walked into the courtyard. Looking over to Chuck's place, Sarah noticed all of the lights were off. "Ellie and Devon gone out?"

He shook his head. "Late shift at the hospital. They won't be back till, like, six am."

"Really?" She purred, running a fingertip along his jaw.

He gulped, nodding silently.

She leaned forward, her lips mere millimetres from his. "Good."

Drawing back suddenly, she laughed as Chuck almost pitched over forward.

Grinning, she gestured over her shoulder to Casey's apartment. "I'll just go make a quick report. Wait right here. I'll be right back."

Not trusting his voice, he nodded again and gave her a thumbs up, and watching her hips sway as she walked away, he took the opportunity to thank every god he could think of.

Just in case.

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	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. This fiction is written for entertainment only.

No profit was made. Just FYI.

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"We were afraid this might happen." General Beckman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Our research indicated that the Intersect might start exhibiting this behaviour if left long enough."

Behind her stony façade, Sarah fumed at the way they were discussing Chuck, as though he were a particularly troublesome lab animal. Through the entirety of their report on Chuck's actions, and the implications they brought forth, both General Beckman and Director Graham had maintained an overtly dispassionate, if slightly annoyed demeanour.

Beside her, although his face remained unchanged, she could hear Casey's teeth grinding in frustration. She had the sneaking suspicion that sometimes, he wanted to put his boot through the screen in front of them as much as she did.

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Chuck was feeling pretty proud of himself, all things considered. After all, it was every guy's fantasy to be able to save the damsel in distress, and be her big damn hero. What made it even better was that _his_ damsel was a trained CIA agent, and he _still_ got to be her knight in shining armor.

Even though he was pretty sure Sarah would've taken the guy out on her own...and he was certain he'd pulled every muscle in his leg... and his arm hurt like hell... he was still in a strutting mood.

He stood in the courtyard, chest puffed out slightly, remembering the look on her face as he'd helped her to her feet. The amazement in her eyes made him feel like a hero.

And that kiss...the feeling of her body pressed against his own...her arms wrapped around him...

He shook himself, coming back to reality.

Damsel-saving hero or not, he was already starting to get bored of waiting. Wandering over to one of Casey's windows, he crouched down to see if they were almost done with their report.

The sooner they were finished, the sooner he could see Sarah's smile again.

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"How should we proceed then, General?" Casey inquired, his tone barely civil. "Considering you saw this coming."

Beckman narrowed her eyes at Casey's tone, but didn't comment on it. "We were hoping this wouldn't happen until we had the new Intersect online. The Beta Intersect is only barely operational as it is, but circumstances have forced our hand."

Director Graham peered at the folder on his desk, flipped it closed, and looked up at the two agents. "Agents Casey and Walker, you are to terminate the Human Intersect immediately."

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Chuck felt like all the air had been knocked from his lungs.

"No..." He whispered.

Logically, he'd known this could happen one day. But the fear that his handlers might one day be ordered to execute him for national security was always a distant one, like the fear of being struck by lightning.

But to hear the words, spoken so calmly, like ordering a pizza, felt like some kind of surreal nightmare. Even now a part of his mind was screaming that it couldn't be real.

But it was, and it was happening right now. For something he had absolutely no control over.

Sarah's shocked voice brought him back to reality, and transfixed, he watched the events that would define his survival unfold before him.

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"What?" Sarah gaped at her superiors. "Could you... could you repeat that order, sir."

Graham's levelled his gaze at her. "This is nothing new to you, Walker. Now do your damn job. Graham out."

His screen went blank. Next to it, General Beckman gazed at the two of them for a moment. "This is a necessary duty, Agents. But if you feel you cannot perform it effectively..."

"No, ma'am!" Casey barked. "We'll take care of things. I guarantee it."

Beckman seemed satisfied. "Very good, Casey. I knew I could count on you. Beckman out."

As the second screen went black, Sarah turned on Casey. "What the fuck, Casey?!"

He set his jaw, looking down on the shorter woman. "We have our orders, Walker. Terminate the target. We have to carry them out."

Sarah felt ready to explode. She might not have thought much of Casey, once upon a time, but she really begun to believe he'd grown fond of Chuck. But now, with barely a word, he was ready to execute the man she'd...they'd both...come to care about.

_No_, Sarah thought, _no way this happens_.

Faster than even she thought she was capable of, her Colt M1911 cleared its holster and levelled on Casey's head. "Just fucking try it, Casey."

"Walker, have you lost your..."

"Shut it." She snapped. "Get you handcuffs and head for the bathroom."

"Walker, think about this." Casey said softly. "You don't want to go down this road."

"I'm pretty sure I do."

"No you don't." He insisted. "For Chuck's sake, you really don't."

The statement was so unexpected that for a second, just a second, her aim wavered. A second was all Casey needed. He pounced forward and slapped the gun from Sarah's hand, sending it careening across the floor. Before she could react, his own pistol was levelled on her. She wisely decided not to move...yet.

"Now shaddup and listen, Walker." Casey growled. "What do you think will happen if we don't do it? Huh? You think they'll just say 'Oh well', and let Chuck go on living with all our nation's secrets in his head?"

He paused, and slowly lowered his gun. "They'll come after him, Sarah. They'll hunt him to the ends of the Earth, and we both know what kind of people they'll send. The ones who live for this kind of thing, and enjoy it. The ones who make it look like an accident, or worse, a really nasty suicide."

He sat down heavily in his chair, and looked up at her. "He doesn't deserve that. Not Chuck. If he's gonna go...and he _is_ gonna go...he deserves to go painlessly, with some goddamned dignity."

Sarah watched him closely, silently acknowledging the truth in his words. "So what now?"

He gazed at her wearily. "So if you wanna shoot me and make a run for it, then go right ahead. Hell, you might even make it. But I doubt it."

He stood, and walked toward her. "Or you can stay, and we can do this right. Like he deserves."

Sarah was silent for a long moment, and for a second or two, considered shooting Casey and going on the run with Chuck. But she knew as well as Casey what the odds of success were. As high a priority as Chuck was, they'd probably be caught before they hit the state line.

And just like that, she was defeated. Everything she'd come to hope for in the last year came crumbling down around her. Leaning forward into Casey's shoulder, she began to sob softly. An embarrassed look came over the NSA agent's face, and he awkwardly placed one arm around her shoulder as she cried.

After a little while, she managed to compose herself and pulled away. She looked up at him. "Promise me one thing?"

"What that?"

"Let me talk to him first. Let me say... goodbye, at least"

"Yeah." He gave her a sad smile. "Yeah, we can do that."

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Outside Casey's window, Chuck sat on the ground, a few tears running down his face. He knew that Sarah cared about him, but she'd been ready to shoot Casey to save him.

But he'd heard everything Casey had said too, and knew that there was no way they'd let good old Chuck Bartowski, Nerd Herd employee, walk around with all their secrets for the rest of his life. If it wasn't them, it'd be someone else. He just be walking around one day and bam, he'd be dead.

Sometimes a man just had to accept his fate, and play the hand dealt to him. Life was like that.

Wiping the tears from his face, he climbed to his feet, and walked back to where the Nerd Herder was parked. He may have to go, but there were some things he had to do before he went. He'd only need a couple of hours.

As he got into the car and turned toward the hospital, he marvelled at the fact that his first thought had been the hope that Sarah, his appointed executioner, wouldn't be worried about him while he was out.

With a rueful laugh, he continued into LA traffic for one of the last times.

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. This fiction is written for entertainment only.

No financial profit was made. Spiritual profit, sure. Creative profit, heck yeah. Just no coin.

C'est la vie.

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The emergency room was a madhouse when Chuck arrived. From what he could tell, it seemed like tonight was the night that everyone in the Greater Los Angeles area decided to have some kind of accident. The moment he walked through the doors, a nurse came bustling up to him with a chart.

"Name, injury, and insurance provider." She demanded.

"Err, Chuck Bartowski." He ventured. "I'm looking for my sister, Ellie?"

The nurse only seemed to be half listening. "When did she come in?"

"Oh, no." He tried to explain. "She's a doctor here. Dr. Ellie Bartowski."

Realizing Chuck wasn't a patient, the nurse spared enough effort to shoot him a particularly scathing glare for wasting her time, gestured vaguely to a nearby curtain, and vanished into the crowd.

Blinking, Chuck headed off in the direction the woman had indicated. Reaching the curtain, he pulled it aside just in time to reveal his sister forcibly re-setting an open leg fracture. The audible cracking sound wasn't so bad, but at the sight of the jagged tip of bone retracting into the torn flesh, Chuck turned slightly green and stumbled backward a step.

"There you go." Ellie stated brightly, patting the young man on the shoulder. "Good as new. Now I'm gonna give you a little something, and then we'll see about that hip of yours."

She nodded to the nurse, who handed her a small vial of clear fluid, from which she filled a small syringe. When Chuck's eyes fell on the vial, he felt his face go slack, and the now familiar rush of images and knowledge wash over him.

_Ketamine. General aesthetic. Powerful sedative. _

Chuck grinned, suddenly knowing what was about to happen to the patient.

Taking the arm of the young man she was treating, she swabbed the inside of his elbow. Finding a vein, she gently pushed the needle in, and injected the sedative. The patient gave her a watery smile, his eyes rolled back, and he fell unconscious. Ellie laughed lightly, and turned to find her brother standing behind her, leaning against the medicine cart, grinning.

"Chuck? What're you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's good." Chuck smiled. "You have a minute?"

"Sure." She pulled her latex gloves off, tossing them in a nearby trashcan. She turned to the nurse beside her. "You got this, Angie?"

The nurse, Angie, nodded, and Ellie led her brother out of the exam room. Following her through a few hallways, she led him into the employee break room. She grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge, and tossed one to him. "So what's up, Chuck?"

One the way there, Chuck had rehearsed his words a dozen times, but all the same he suddenly found himself speechless. "Uhh…"

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the look he'd long ago come to recognize as her 'Come on, out with it' expression.

Chuck sighed. "Ellie, I just wanted to tell you I love you, and I appreciate everything you've done for me over the years. I don't think I could've made it without you."

Her stern expression melted. "Chuck... I... thank you. What brought this on?"

"I just..." He stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. "No matter what happens, Ellie, you be happy. You promise?"

She pulled back to look him in the eye. "Chuck, you scaring me. What's going on?"

"Nothing." He answered shortly. "I just know I've been a pain in the ass lately, and I wanted you to know I'm sorry, and that you're the best big sister I ever could've asked for, and I'm really happy for you and Devon. I don't say stuff like that enough."

"Oh, Chuck." Her eyes began to shine with tears as she pulled him back into the hug. "I love you too, you doofus. And you never have to thank me for being there for you. I'll always be there for you."

"I know." He replied, stepping back and letting his arms fall to his sides. "But I better let you get back to work. Lives need saving, and all that."

"Okay." She sniffed, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "See you at home?"

With some effort, Chuck managed to keep his expression from cracking. "Actually, I'll be out with Sarah tonight. Could be a late one."

Ellie grinned, and dabbed at her eyes once more. "Okay. Go get 'em, tiger."

Chuck shot her a thumbs up, and made his way out through the bustling crowds, willing himself not to look back.

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Fighting to keep his composure, Chuck reached up and knocked on the door. A brief scuffle was heard on the other side, before it swung open to reveal a dishevelled looking Morgan.

"Chuck! Mi compadre!" The small man cried happily. "What's up, man?"

Chuck shrugged lightly. "I was in the area, and I sensed someone playing Call Of Duty 4. What can I say?"

"Yes, yes..." Morgan nodded sagely. "I too understand the siren call of COD 4. Come in, fellow pilgrim. Multiplayer awaits."

Grinning, he followed Morgan into the small apartment, cracking his knuckles on the way. "Let's do this thing."

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_Some time later..._

"Which is why I'm certain Chewbacca must've used conditioner on his fur." Morgan concluded, pausing briefly to take down a mouthful of pretzels. "You don't get that kind of body and lustre without working for it, and I should know."

"Please." Chuck snorted. "He lived on a spaceship, and a small spaceship, at that. You really think the Millennium Falcon had water tanks big enough for a seven-foot Wookie to lather, rinse, _and_ repeat on a daily basis? I think not."

"Bro, you're killing me." Morgan cried. "They have blasters, lightsabers, hyperdrive, droids and all sorts of other high tech stuff. You think they can't recycle water?"

"On a high class ship, maybe, but on the Falcon?"

Morgan looked offended. "Oh, so now you're calling the Millennium Falcon low class?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Oh, then how did you mean it?"

Before Chuck could dig himself any deeper, though, he was cut off by a loud knock on the door. Morgan slowly got up to answer it, fixing Chuck with a stern look. "Don't think we're done talking about this."

He returned a moment later, with his sweet, if slightly unhinged girlfriend Anna by his side.

"Hi, Chuck." She greeted him, smiling.

"Hi, Anna." He waved, getting up from his seat.

"Hey, man," Morgan pulled him aside. "I know we were having a pretty important discussion, and the first rule is bros before hoes, but, uh..."

"Could I leave so you and Anna can have some 'quality time'?"

Morgan nodded. "I would've said 'do the nasty', or perhaps even 'dance the horizontal mambo', but you've got the gist of it, yeah."

Chuck shook his head, laughing quietly. "Sure, dude. No problem."

"Cool, man. You rock." Morgan assured him as he not so subtly pushed Chuck toward the door. "See you tomorrow, right?"

"Sure."

"Wicked."

"Hey Morgan?" Chuck called out, just before the door closed.

"Yeah, man?"

"You're my best friend." Chuck told him. "Thank you."

Morgan looked a little stunned, before a huge grin split his face. "No thanks necessary. All part of the Morgan experience."

"Take care of yourself, man."

"Sure, dude. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Chuck agreed, smiling sadly. "Tomorrow."

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Pulling the Nerd Herder up to the curb, Chuck took a moment to prepare himself for what was coming. Tonight was the night his life came to an end, and he figured that was worth reflecting on.

He thought back to Stanford, and how Bryce had lied to keep him out of this life, and then, years later, pulled Chuck in with his supposedly dying act.

And now, after all he'd seen and done, there were two government agents waiting in his home with orders to kill him. Two friends he'd trusted with his life countless times, would be the ones to end it.

A rueful laugh escaped his lips. The irony of it all was staggering.

Shaking his head, he climbed out of the car and slowly made his way through the courtyard. He paused at the fountain, pulled a quarter from his pocket, and tossed it in.

Feeling oddly philosophical, he watched the ripples dance over the water's surface, and had the strangest urge to listen to The Doors.

"This is the end," He sang softly, as he unlocked his front door. "My only friend, the end."

He laughed again, this time at how melodramatic he was being. It really wasn't his style.

He walked into the living room, and wasn't surprised to see Casey and Sarah sitting on the couch, waiting for him. When Sarah caught sight of him, her eyes lit up beautifully, and a faint sense of euphoria filled him. God, she was gorgeous.

After a moment's debate, he decided to play dumb. They didn't need to know that he knew what was coming.

Sarah stood hurriedly, crossing the room but stopping just short of throwing her arms around him. Her expression was relieved. "Chuck, where were you? I was worried."

He ruthlessly smothered the feeling of betrayal that rushed through him. "I'm fine, Sarah. Ellie called me. She forgot her pager at home, so I ran it over to the hospital for her. Sorry I didn't tell you."

"And that took three hours?" She looked at him sternly. "It's almost one in the morning."

Chuck actually managed to look embarrassed. "I might have stopped by Morgan's on the way back."

"Smooth move, Chuckles." Casey snapped. "Disappear all of a sudden without telling us. You're lucky we didn't put out an APB on you."

"Right, Casey." Chuck replied, rolling his eyes. He started walking toward the kitchen. "And what exactly would you have said? 'All Officers, be on the lookout for a _guy_. We can't tell you who he is, or what he looks like, or why we're looking for him, because it's all _classified_, but if you see him, let us know right away.'"

Casey didn't seem to have an answer for that one, so he just sunk further into his seat, muttering quietly.

On any other night, seeing Casey give up so easily would've puzzled him, but tonight Chuck figured the NSA agent probably had bigger things weighing on his mind. Cracking a half smile, he resumed his rooting through the fridge. "Whatever. You guys want something to drink?"

They both answered in the affirmative, and he returned with three drinks grasped somewhat precariously in his hands. Moving slowly, he managed to get all three drinks onto the table without a major disaster. He looked down at them with pride. "Would you look at that. I'm like a refreshment ninja."

Sarah heaved a heavy sigh. Reaching out, she took Chuck's hand, and pulled him down next to her on the couch. "Sit down, Chuck."

"We need to tell you something."

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	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: 'Chuck' and all it's affiliated characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. This fiction is written for entertainment only.

No profit was made. Just FYI.

A/N: I've used a certain name in this chapter as an homage to the writer Notorious JMG. I love his work, and I fully recommend you check it out.

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"What's up, guys?" Chuck asked as Casey and Sarah looked nervously at one another. Casey muttered something over the rim of his drink, and gestured to Sarah.

She shot the man a glare, but her expression softened looking at Chuck. "We reported what happened tonight to our superiors, including all the possible implications... and..."

She looked down at her hand, still linked with Chuck's. "Chuck, we've... received our orders, regarding the situation with the Intersect."

"And?" He said, willing her to say anything but the truth.

"We've been ordered to..." A sudden, chocked sob burst from her throat. "...to termin...to kill you. Tonight. I'm so sorry."

She started to cry in earnest, and to everyone's surprise, even his own, Chuck wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back gently. "Shh... It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

Casey shook his head in disbelief. "Bartowski, do you understand what we're telling you? We've been ordered to kill you, and you're telling _us_ it gonna be okay?"

"You think I didn't see this coming?" Chuck fired back at Casey. "It was only a matter of time before someone up the ladder decided it was too dangerous to keep me alive."

Casey gaped at him. "You aren't going to ask us not to do it? Or try to run?"

"Would it do any good?"

"No." Casey conceded, looking away shamefully.

"Then I'm not gonna waste what little time I have left demeaning myself."

The hardened NSA agent stared at Chuck for a long moment, and nodded slowly. "You're as good a man as I've ever known, Bartowski, and better than most."

Casey raised his glass in salute, and proceeded to drain it dry.

A long silence followed, broken only by Sarah's soft sniffles, and the sound of Chuck's hand making slow circles on her back.

Finally, Sarah reluctantly pulled herself away from Chuck's embrace. Wiping her eyes, she looked up to meet his gaze. "Beth."

Chuck blinked. "What?"

"Elizabeth Lisa Reynolds." She continued. "That's my name. My real name."

Comprehension slowly dawned on Chuck's face. He squeezed her hand. "Thank you... Beth."

She shook her head softly. "No Chuck, it's Sarah for you. I was Sarah when I was with you, and now I don't think I ever want to be anyone else.

He nodded in understanding. "Okay. Sarah it is, then."

Looking between his two handlers, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, how do we...y'know..._do_...this thing."

The two agents shared a look, and Casey pulled a small bottle from his pocket, placing it on the table between them. "Vicodin. Take them all. It'll be just like falling asleep."

Chuck reached over and picked the pill bottle up. "Overdose?"

"Yeah." Casey continued uncomfortably, having obvious trouble getting the words out. "We're thinking it'd be the best choice. You can...er...you can write a note, if you like. Nothing classified, but if you want to say goodbye..."

"A suicide note." Chuck stated. "That my sister would read after she found me."

Sarah and Casey both looked away. Casey lowered his head into his hands, looking ill.

"...I guess it's for the best." Chuck said finally.

A kind of relief washed over Sarah's face, though her eyes remained cloudy.

"Y'know, guys," He continued, as an incredibly weary expression fell across Casey's features. "It's been a blast. I'm gonna miss you both, but I guess things were just meant to turn out this way."

Sarah looked at him serenely. "We'll miss you, too."

"But before we... you know," Chuck added, as Casey's eyes began to droop in earnest. "There's one more thing I want you guys to know."

Sarah, seemingly unaware of her partner's rapidly deteriorating state, smiled numbly. "What's that, Chuck?"

"I dosed your drinks with enough Ketamine to knock out a horse. Stole it from the hospital." Chuck smiled crookedly. "Sweet dreams."

As if on cue, Casey slumped forward in his seat, out cold. His empty glass fell from his limp fingers, shattering on the floor.

Sarah gazed dumbly the unconscious man for a second, as if she were trying to figure out what was going on. Chuck took advantage of her distracted state and tried to make for the door.

He was halfway out of his seat when he felt a hand grip the back of his shirt, and haul him back down to the couch. As he fell, Sarah leaped up and twisted wildly, pulling her M1911 and aiming unsteadily at Chuck's chest.

He froze in his seat, as his plans for escape evaporated. Passing his eyes over the table, he saw that Sarah had barely touched her drink. Less than a quarter was gone.

_Stupid_, he thought. He should've been sure, but there was nothing for it now.

He locked eyes with Sarah over the sights of her pistol. Even through the semi-drugged haze, he could see her sharp mind at work.

This was it. The end. Game over. She'd pull the trigger, and in a few hours Ellie would come home to find his corpse on the couch. Sarah Walker would never be seen again. He closed his eyes, and waited for the last sound he'd ever hear.

"Chuck."

His eyes opened slowly, looking up at the woman before him. "...Yeah?"

A single tear trailed down her face. "It's hard to say goodbye."

Before he could respond, she reached down and picked up her drink, draining the entire thing. Dropping the empty glass, she lowered her gun and met his eyes once more. "Run, Chuck. Run fast and far, and don't look back."

With that, her gun fell from her grasp and her knees buckled. She was much smaller than Casey was, and the powerful sedative acted quickly. She'd just begun to collapse when Chuck leaped up and caught her. He lowered her gently onto the couch.

"Thank you, Sarah." He whispered as her eyes began to lose focus. Gripped by the sudden knowledge that this would be the last time he ever saw her, he leaned forward a kissed her softly. She weakly grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to her.

The kiss was simple, saying everything but promising nothing. When it ended, she smiled sleepily up at him, moving her hand to cup his cheek.

"I love you, Sarah." He spoke the words before he even realized he wanted to.

Her eyes lit up, and he watched her force herself to stay awake. Her voice was soft, her words slurred by the sedative coursing through her system. "I...lu...yu...too."

He grinned like all his birthdays had come at once. "Goodbye. I'll miss you."

But she was already out, the last of her strength gone. He stood slowly, smiling sadly, and headed for his room, pausing only to collect Sarah's handgun from the floor. He packed a few mementos and necessities in a small bag, and headed for the door.

Turning, he gave the apartment one last glance. He tucked the pistol in his belt, and flipped his shirt over it, and walked out the door for the last time.

He passed through the courtyard, and out onto the street. He followed the sidewalk to the corner, where he turned left, leaving the range of the last of Casey's surveillance cameras.

It would be the last official image of Charles Irving Bartowski, the human Intersect, in the CIA archives.

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End Part One


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